


Shatterpoint

by DT Maxwell (Draya)



Series: Our Blades Are Sharp [10]
Category: Star Wars: The Old Republic
Genre: Bloodshed, Child Abuse, F/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Renatus Family Feels, Slavery, Unconventional Adoption, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-21
Updated: 2014-05-21
Packaged: 2018-01-26 01:13:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1669253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Draya/pseuds/DT%20Maxwell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Andronikos Revel finds out the hard way that his wife does, in fact, have a trigger. (Although to be fair, it's an unwelcome surprise to her, too.)</p><p>But they end up with a new daughter at the end of the day, so there was one bright spot to the mess, at least.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shatterpoint

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted to my [tumblr](http://dragons-bones.tumblr.com/post/62940154728/swtor-shatterpoint) in October 2013.
> 
> I like writing about the crazy hijinks of the Renatus clan - they're a family of Sith and criminals with penchants for violence who genuinely love and care for one another. But it can't always be sunshine and roses (or sunshine and knives, in this case), and they did not meet Xalla on the best of days (and that's an understatement).
> 
> But Xalla's a Renatus now, and theirs, and that's all that matters.

Dea had been the one to give them the tip-off.

"Not even _my_ informants have been able to turn up any further details," her sister had said over the HoloNet from her plush office on Port Nowhere. "All we know is it's an incredibly exclusive private auction for 'a treasure never before seen outside Imperial space.' I've got the 'rats on Nar Shaddaa trying to hunt down any more leads, but I'm not holding out much hope they can find anything new."

Kardea Renatus - better known as "Lady Sly" to the rest of the galactic underworld - had built an information network over the years that had begun to raise numerous red flags with Imperial Intelligence as they realized just far the network extended – and how accurate the information it produced was. If Dea couldn't find something out, chances were no one else would be able to, either.

(Not that someone _couldn't,_ but that someone probably wouldn't be inclined to share details with a Sith.)

"A treasure never before seen outside Imperial space." (Ugh, talk about insipid sales pitches...) That, by default, meant Sith space, so a Sith treasure. What _type_ of treasure was another matter entirely and as the head of the Sphere of Ancient Knowledge, Tryphaena Renatus wanted to know where in the hells was the leak.

But nothing was missing from the public museums on Dromund Kaas, everything in the archives on Korriban and Ziost and Rhelg was accounted for, and all active Imperial Reclamation Service dig sites were secure. It might have come from a "private" collection, but none of the Darths and Lords with known artifact collections – and none of those with _unknown_ collections, because she made it her business to know which Sith were trying to smuggle antiquities and objects of power under her nose – were making discreet fusses.

So.

A few favors called in (and Dea gently pulling strings in the background to get those favors back, such a wonderful big sister), a liberal application of credits, and one or two threats later, and Phae had secured fake identities and invitations for her crew (save Khem Val, since a Deshade would attract far too much attention; he would be backup) to the private auction.

Andronikos looked _odd_ with his tattoo covered up and a week's worth of hair growth, but combined with the noble's clothing he now wore (in his favorite colors, at least, she'd never have been able to coax him into them otherwise) and a shift in posture from slouching scoundrel to rigid princeling, he was virtually unrecognizable. Phae herself had dyed her hair black and pulled it back into a severe bun, applied a light foundation of makeup to make herself appear paler than she was, and had dressed in the plain, dark robes of a Naboo handmaiden.

Rather odd to be standing to Andronikos's left and slightly behind him instead of the other way around.

(Xalek and Ashara were playing bodyguard to Talos, in the meantime. Their disguises... Well, they'd all glared at her when she took a holo while giggling hysterically.)

Phae eyed the crowd from behind a pair of tinted glasses. A good smattering of the who's who of the galactic underworld was present in the large room, if not personally than in the form of trusted lieutenants. The room was humming from the sound of assorted conversations, but she heard nothing to indicate that anyone else knew what was up for auction tonight.

She stifled a grunt of annoyance, settled more firmly into parade rest, and reached out with the Force.

_Anticipation excitement "What does Tayvos have planned this time?" "Such a fun auction last time, beautiful specimens" greed lust annoyance impatience "Hurry up already" "Where-"_

And further out-

_Fear fear fear fluttering beating hearts nononono-_

Phae’s eyes snapped open.

A side door opened, and as the smiling auctioneer greeted the crowd, guards escorted in a line of Pureblood children, coiffed and dressed in soft white cotton and linked to one another by pretty golden chains that drew attention away from the thick collars on their necks.

There was a roaring in her ears.

"-the Sith never sell Pureblood slaves outside Imperial space, use them as breeding stock or something like that. We hope our special treat pleases you!"

The first of the children was removed from the chain and pushed forward. She was thin and small, maybe as young as five, perhaps as old as eight – the slave pens were not known for their filling meals, after all. Her skin was deep crimson and her face only lightly-ridged, and for a moment Phae thought her hair was black but no, it was a deep, deep cherry when the light hit it just _so._ And her eyes were beautiful molten gold and wide with terror.

"We'll start off strong tonight! A lovely specimen, this one, Lot 372. Healthy, no genetic anomalies, and no Force sensitivity. She'll make a pretty little serving girl and ornament until she's older – and when she is, we expect she'll make a fine concubine! We'll start the bidding at-"

The auctioneer's face was frozen in shock, eyes wide. The crowd went silent and still.

A thin line of blood trickled down the auctioneer's face.

Phae tilted her head. One of her throwing knives was embedded in the auctioneer's forehead. She glanced down and yes, that was her arm, fully extended.

Hm. Well then.

She didn't remember much after that.

—

Andronikos had fought beside Phae for years and had never seen her like this, face utter devoid of emotion and the Force clinging to her in cold waves so strong he could feel his teeth start to chatter. She was moving in long, quick strides, black robes flowing around her, as the crowd started screaming and the auctioneer's body fell to the ground and he scrambled after his wife to cover her back, taking out the blasters hidden in his cloak. Over the chaos he could hear Ashara yelling into her commlink for Khem Val, waiting with Arthanasia and Kardea, as she, Talos, and Xalek moved to take up flanking positions.

Xalek removed a second saberstaff from the folds of his heavier robes and threw it toward Phae. She reached up, caught it, and clipped to her belt in one smooth movement. Then she turned her attention to the guard charging her, sidestepped him, and eviscerated him with her favorite knife she'd pulled from her boot - a wicked thing of whorled Echani steel the length of her forearm with a hilt made from a Krayt dragon tooth.

The guard fell, too, screaming as blood and viscera pooled beneath him. Phae didn't give a second look him as she continued on her way to the stage.

Another guard got in her way. He was four times her size and built like a tank, and she grabbed him by the front of his armor and _threw_ him one-handed into the far wall. Andronikos heard his skull crack over the sounds of chaos as the buyers attempted to flee.

The children were huddled together as Phae and Andronikos reached the auction stage, except for the first "lot," shaking and standing stock still in the spot she'd been pushed to. Phae shook off her outer robe, the high collar of her tunic loosening, and knelt to wrap it around the little girl's shoulders, again one-handed. His wife smiled, took off her tinted glasses to reveal her eyes, and said, "Hello, sweetheart. My name's Phae. What's your's?"

The Pureblood swallowed. "Xalla," she said, voice tiny and slightly muffled by the robe's collar.

"That's a lovely name! Did you choose it for yourself?"

Xalla nodded.

Phae patted her on the head. "Stay behind me, all right?"

Xalla nodded again. Her gaze had slid down Phae's face and the little girl was staring at her neck - and the deeply scarred grooves at its base that only a slave collar left behind.

Phae stood, turned, and raised her arm to unleash a _storm_ of lightning at the auction guards attempting to rush their position, the lightning arching between guards and buyers more than half room crackled with Force-generated electricity. The smell of smoke and cooking flesh filled the air along with howling, agonizing _screams,_ and Andronikos shot five more guards between the eyes in the meantime.

Another guard approach from their blind side. Talos shouted a warning, and just as Andronikos turned, Phae _twisted_ under the guard's arm, in a way his eyes found impossible to follow, and slit the man's throat. He crashed to his knees, choking on blood.

Once the rest of the crew finally arrived, they formed a protective circle around the children and hustled them to safety. Phae put her knife away and scooped up little Xalla, and the girl wrapped her arms around the Sith's neck and buried her face there. As they neared the building's exit, another group of guards swarmed up, and Andronikos only lowered his blasters when he saw Arthanasia and Kardea with them. Kardea's Hounds took up covering positions, one squad moving forward to the engage the cartel soldiers finally responding, as the rest escorted them out into the night and to waiting evac shuttles.

Three of Kardea's people with specialized equipment started work on removing the collars from the children's necks as the shuttles took off for the information broker's compound on Nar Shaddaa. Xalla continued to cling to Phae even after her collar was removed.

Andronikos dropped into the seat next to Phae, sighing heavily. Xalla peaked at him warily.

Phae tucked her chin into the girl's hair. "That's Andronikos," she said. "He's my husband." She kept her firm grip on Xalla, but she pressed her leg against his.

Xalla blinked, shifted her arm slightly, and waved at him tentatively. Andronikos smiled at her and waved back. "Hey there, kiddo," he said softly.

She made a muffled squeaking sound and buried her face back in Phae's robes. Phae tightened her grip and gave him a strained smile as he chuckled.

Back at Kardea's compound, his sisters-in-law, Ashara, Talos, and Kardea's minions began trying to get the kids organized and settled, passing out blankets and warm clothes, asking for names, trying to identify any siblings or particular little groups that had bonded with one another. He didn't care where Khem Val and Xalek had vanished off to (probably back to the firefight for all he knew), but Phae and Xalla refused to relinquish their grips on one another, Phae ignoring even her sisters' coaxing. They vanished further into the compound, toward the guest quarters.

Arthanasia and Kardea exchanged solemn looks, sighed, and turned to Andronikos. He took a step back – no sane man wouldn't be more than a little intimidated with _those_ two for sisters-in-law – but they simply grabbed him by the shoulders, spun him around, and pushed him in the direction their baby sister had gone.

Like Andronikos needed a hint.

He found his wife in their guest room. Phae had kicked off her boots, but was still in her blood-stained robes, sitting up against the headboard of the bed with little Xalla curled up in her lap. The Pureblood girl's cheek was resting on Phae's collarbone, eyes closed in sleep. Andronikos could see Phae's whitened knuckles in the robe still wrapped around Xalla, and his wife's eyes were wide and unseeing as she stared at the far wall. Her breathing was shallow and he suspected the only reason she hadn't let herself begin to hyperventilate was because of the kid clinging to her in her sleep.

Andronikos shucked his boots and the outer layer of his ridiculous disguise, and then slid onto the bed next to his wife. He lifted his arm up and once Phae burrowed his into side, rested his cheek on her head. He felt her start to tremble, and tightened his grip on her.

"Whenever you're ready, sweetheart," he said. He heard Phae's breathing hitch.

They sat like that for a while, Phae shaking so badly he was surprised she didn't wake Xalla, and the silence stretched for so long Andronikos was sure she wouldn't say another word until the next morning.

Then-

"I stood on a stage like that, once."

Her voice was tired and hoarse, and without a trace of the Dromund Kaas accent she so carefully maintained. Andronikos pressed her firmly against him.

Not what he was expecting. He could count the number of times Phae had talked about her years as a slave on one hand and have fingers to spare.

"I grew up in the Undercity, I knew all the tricks to keep me from looking too pretty, so I wasn't up for sale for- for _that._ But it was a general auction, and there was shouting and too many people and the lights were too bright and the shock collar was so heavy it hurt." She was tripping over her words, speaking in an Undercity accent with a soft Corellian twang to it that her sisters had, too. "I cried and the guards shook me to shut me up and I cried harder and the next thing I knew I was being thrown into a pen to have a slave chip shoved into the top of my spine.

"And there wasn't anyone there to make it just _stop._ "

Finally, _finally,_ Phae started to cry, burying her face in his shirt.

Andronikos had _no damned idea_ how to properly handle his wife's emotional trauma now that the floodgates had been opened; he'd leave that to the shrink who survived Kardea's four-week vetting process (because there was no doubt in his mind that Phae's big sisters weren't going to be hiring shrinks for the kids and Phae herself as soon as they finished gutting slavers). But he could be her support, like he always had been, so he wrapped up Phae (and the little girl still in her lap) in his arms and rocked her, murmuring into her hair that she'd be all right.

And she would. She was a tough girl, his Phae. She'd clawed her to way to the top of the Sith food chain with sass and deceit and knives and sheer, stubborn willpower. She wouldn't let the ghosts of the past haunt her forever.

He glanced down to see Xalla peering up at him, the wariness from earlier gone. She favored him with a shy, tiny smile, and then burrowed back into Phae's embrace, but not before reaching out to grasp his shirt in one small fist. 

_'Yeah,'_ Andronikos thought, gathering both of his girls closer. _'She's a tough one, too.'_

They'd be all right.


End file.
